Surprise
by foREVerAvengedSevenfold
Summary: 'Sherlock added on, as if to fuel his friends anger: "Did you really think it was Magnussen who put you in that fire?"' Short conversation between Sherlock and John shortly after Sherlock's return from 'exile'.


**Fandom: Sherlock **

**Pairing: None. Johnlock if you squint. **

**Warnings: slight spoilers for series three. **

**Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. **

**First attempt at writing Sherlock fanfiction so forgive me if the portrayal of the characters is a little off.**

**Surprise**

"When you were called back from your 4 minute exile, you didn't seem surprised to hear that Moriarty was back." John meant to ask his friend about the distinct lack of shock, yet as the words come out of his mouth they sounded more like a criticism. His friend shrugged on his coat, turning the collar up before he turned around to face his friend.

"What use does shock hold?" Sherlock replied, earning himself another one of _those_ looks from his dear friend. "I'm sorry I forgot your human emotions. Look: shock." The detective contorted his face into an expression which mocked that of surprise, not unlike the expression Moriarty himself once used to demonstrate shock. "Better?" He questioned, his face returning to its usually neutral expression.

"Sherlock, I may have questioned your humanity in the past, but you know that I know you better." John paused, raising his eyebrows at his best friend whilst waiting for a response. After half a minute of unbroken silence, which may have become awkward if it were not Sherlock that John was dealing with, he pressed on. "It's almost like...you knew?" Sherlock still didn't rise to the bait he was offered; which managed to withdraw an audible sigh from Watson. When Sherlock overtly tried to change the topic of conversation onto that of a new case, it become obvious to John that his theory was right.

"You knew! He was alive, and you _knew. _You let that man walk free knowing all the damage he could cause?" John was all-but shouting by this point, exasperated. "You told me he was dead. What did you do, go up on the roof a fake suicide at _each other_?!" John pressed on; anger surging due to, once again, being kept in the dark by his detective friend.

"Well yes, I suppose we did." Sherlock replied calmly, a slight chuckle added on at the end. "Really John, if I could fool the nation into believing my death, what makes you think he could not do the same? He's made it explicitly clear that we are one and the same." John began to regain composure by the end of Sherlock's retort, almost becoming calm until Sherlock added on, as if to fuel his rage: "Did you really think it was Magnussen who put you in that fire?"

At hearing the words Johns eyes jumped to Sherlocks. "What? What did you just say?" John questioned, his voice flat. He gave Sherlock his best '_you better explain what you mean, right now_' expression. "Charles Magnussen was a journalist; a business man. He paid for the information he needed, he didn't gather it himself. Whoever put you in that fire was not doing it to establish whether you was my weakness; they already knew. The texts. They sent texts mocking me, urging me to find you faster. That isn't the act of a businessman digging for evidence; that is an act of a villain, wanting to watch his play things squirm. Moriarty said he liked to watch me dance." Sherlock mused, as John remained silent; shaking his head in denial.

'But he admitted it. He _said _it was him who staged it." The doctor argued back, still not quite comprehending the evidence he was being presented.

"Oh I have no doubt it was Magnussen who _paid_ for the information the incident presented, but I am sure he wasn't the one in charge of the operation." Johns hand formed a fist, before expressing his anger within a punch to the table top. Sherlock raised his eyebrows, before adding, "I'm surprised you didn't work it out sooner."

"Well sorry I didn't have time to _deduce_ the situation as it occurred," John spat, with a mocking tone. "But I was a bit too busy about to get burnt to death!"

"Do you really have that little faith in me?" Sherlock asked with a smirk. Johns own expression softened as he observed his friends playful expression. Although Sherlock wasn't known for his humor, John knew it existed-even if it was expressed through sarcasm the majority of the time.

"I knew you would come, you always do." John admitted softly, before continuing, "It's just that—that's the second time that man's kidnapped me and put me in the position to be killed; the swimming pool and the fire."

"I know, John."

Silence settled between them for a moment as they both thought of what could of happened that day in the swimming pool—what would have _inevitably _happened if it were not for the villains phone call.

"You thought it was me, didn't you; that day at the swimming pool. You thought I was him." John inquired, remembering the look of betrayal in his best friend's eyes when John stepped out of the cubicle that day.

"No." Sherlock answered without missing a beat. "You're not a psychopath." Sherlock stated as his only explanation.

"And you're not as much as a sociopath as you claim to be." John said, clapping Sherlock on the shoulder as he headed towards the stairs. "Now come on, I'm sure Moriarty's dying for you to figure out his little game again."

**This story started off with this prompt: **

**Two Adulterers conspire to killed the Betrayed Spouse**

**So I'm not sure how it ended up here…**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and feedback would be great! **


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